


Threat

by FaintlyMacabre



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Weird Coworkers to Lovers, F!Jareth, F/F, Gen, Mutual Pining, Rule 63, but not slow burn because we don't have time for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaintlyMacabre/pseuds/FaintlyMacabre
Summary: The goblin kingdom is under siege from a mysterious threat.Thirteen years after Sarah solved the labyrinth, Jareth seeks her out.





	Threat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nununununu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/gifts).

Sarah shouldered open the door to her apartment and Morgana yowled for dinner. “Right, right, never been fed in your life,” she replied as she felt along the wall for the light switch, the cat winding around her feet. She found the switch, flipped it. Nothing. She frowned and tried it again. Still nothing. “Damn.” She wondered if it was just a bulb or if the whole building was going wonky again. Old Victorian houses with their afterthought wiring, beautiful and finicky.

“Just like you!” she crooned to Morgana, crouching to scratch her head before straightening up to shine her keyring flashlight around. Morgana had knocked yesterday’s mail off the counter, little brat, but she should have dealt with it earlier anyway. At least she hadn’t clawed up the carpet too much more and _there was someone sitting in that chair_.

“Shit!” Sarah gasped, and choked on the spit she inhaled. She curled in on herself, bringing up her hands in front of her face, inadvertently flinging the keyring away. “Get the fuck out of my house or I’m calling the cops!” She felt silly saying it; the phone was clearly on an end table in the living room, where the intruder was, but she was still between them and the door. _Right_. She backed away, still crouching low, but instead of the door she walked into—

This time, she didn’t yell, just whirled around, leading with an elbow, but it didn’t connect. Not the way she’d been intending, anyway. The intruder caught and held her arm in an unyielding grip.

“Is this how you greet old friends, Sarah?”

She froze. _No. No fucking way. _A million thoughts reeled through her mind, memory, dream, a fall, her breath catching as she ran faster than she’d thought she could, regret, indignation, a clock chiming, a smirk mostly hidden behind a mask, and that voice…

She bit her tongue before she could say _No. You? But you’re not real! You’re just a dream I had._

“No, it’s not how I greet _friends_,” she said instead. “And do you have to knock out the lights every time?”

A low chuckle answered her. “Sorry,” the voice said. “Electricity doesn’t play well with me.”

A light flared up in front of her, and she blinked and squinted past the glowing crystal into the face of the Goblin King herself.

“So who did you kidnap this time?” Sarah said, trying to sound calm around the pounding of blood in her ears. “I don’t live with any babies, and my cat’s still here, so…”

Jareth sighed. “We’ve already done this, or don’t you remember? You made the wish, you called for me. I’m sure you can remember.”

“Beating you?” Sarah said. “Yeah, I remember. ‘You have no—‘”

“Don’t!” Jareth said.

“Why? Would it banish you again?” Sarah said. “Because…”

“No, it’s just not something I like talking about,” Jareth said. “Sit, won’t you?”

“It’s my apartment.” Sarah folded her arms over her chest and planted her feet, staring back at Jareth.

“Fine.” And then she was gone, and Sarah was left staring at the door. For a split second, she thought maybe this was just a wild dream, born of sleep deprivation and too many kids’ fantasy stories passing through her hands at the library.

“I’d prefer it if you joined me.” Jareth’s voice came from the living room, from the corner where she’d been sitting when Sarah came in. “It’ll be easier to say what I came here to say.”

Why would I want to make things easier for you? Sarah thought, but walked into the living room anyway. The crystal was sitting on the coffee table now, giving off a soft light that was still bright enough to see most of the room by, even if it did cast deep shadows onto the walls. Jareth sat in Sarah’s favorite chair, the cracked leather wingback from her dad’s house, and for the first time in thirteen years, she got a good look at the Goblin King.

She’d changed her look a bit: her hair was shot through with darker streaks, and she wore a leather duster instead of a cape, but she was still undeniably fey, other, beyond her dramatic eyeliner. Other, it seemed, was woven into her bones. Jareth met her gaze and Sarah’s face heated; she had to wonder how long she’d been staring at her former adversary.

“You look different,” Sarah said, flicking her eyes over to Morgana, who was ignoring them from the kitchen counter.

“So do you,” Jareth said, and Sarah wondered if that was meant to be mocking. “A lot’s happened.”

“Did you come just to catch up?” Sarah said. “I have a lot of reading to do, and dinner to make—and that’s not an invitation.”

“Must you be so antagonistic toward me?”

Sarah barked out a laugh that made Morgana jump. “Must I be so antagonistic toward you, my antagonist?”

Jareth laughed now, but hers sounded… tired, stretched thin. “Oh Sarah, if only you knew.”

“You’ve told me already,” Sarah said, feeling antsy. “You only did what you did because I wanted it. If you’re here to rehash this or look for sympathy—I’m not really sure why.”

“I am your villain, am I not?” Jareth said, and suddenly tension inhabited her limbs like a bird of prey about to swoop down.

Sarah tried not to look cowed. “And I’m yours, I suppose?”

“No.” Jareth smoothed her gloved hands over the arms of the chair, a bit of the predatory posture softened. “No, that title’s not yours to claim.”

“Whose is it then.” Sarah wasn’t sure whether or not to expect an answer. She thought there must not be one, after several seconds of silence.

“I need your help.”

This was so far from anything Sarah had been expecting for the evening. She’d thought a quiet night in with lasagna and advance copies. Instead here was her old childhood adversary, who could not possibly exist, baring her throat.

“Why?”

“’Why’, what?”

“Why… ask me? I can’t imagine I’d be your first choice to go to for help, I don’t have any magic, and we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms—”

Jareth laughed ruefully. “You raise some salient points, but you are almost entirely wrong.” She leaned forward. “Do you know how many people have ever solved the labyrinth, Sarah? Guess.”

“Ever? Um… ninety-seven.”

“One.”

“Me?”

“Just you.”

“With _help! _With… tricks!”

“Do you think everyone who makes the attempt can call that help to them? And how many times did it trick you?”

She had a point there; between the illusory walls, the tiny goblins who’d turned her markers when she looked away, and the curious old goblin woman who’d replicated her bedroom, the place was basically built on tricks.

“But I don’t have—”

“Magic. You said,” Jareth said. “And you’re wrong.”

“No, I would know.”

“Would you? You never guessed that the labyrinth is essentially unsolveable,” Jareth said.

“Well, I thought it a few times when I was in it,” Sarah grumbled.

“The magic of the labyrinth—without realizing, you wrapped it around yourself, weaving it like thread into your very being. Aboveground isn’t particularly conducive to displaying such gifts, which is also why you never realized you already had certain…” Jareth trailed off and became suddenly fascinated by her gloves.

“I already had—oh.” _'But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and she had given her certain powers.' Oh shit, that was true?_

“Whether you like it or not, the labyrinth is a part of you now.”

“But you can’t… want to work with me now?” Sarah said, still reluctant to accept all of it. “The way I… the way it ended.”

“I would go further than this to save my kingdom.” Jareth’s eyes were locked on hers now, any traces of embarrassment or humor gone. “To counter this exceptional Threat against us. If it would help. If you believe nothing else, believe that. But I need you, Sarah.”

“I’m your best chance?”

“You’re my only chance.”

“Kind of a weird twist of fate, huh?”

“Well, war makes strange bedfellows.” Jareth stood. “Time to go.”

“What, _now?_” Sarah jumped up. “Also, war?”

“I don’t have the luxury of making appointments, time is of the essence.”

“I am not just jumping into a war I know nothing about!”

“Sensible.” Jareth rubbed her forehead. “I promise, I will explain when we are there, and I promise your role does not involve kidnap, animal harm, or senseless murder.”

The modifier on that last one made her a little uneasy. “I need to change, I need to eat dinner, I have to feed my cat.”

“Very well,” Jareth sighed. “Change quickly, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Choosing not to worry about that last bit, Sarah ducked into her bedroom and threw the closet open. _What’s right for fighting in a war alongside your attractive fantasy nemesis? _She sighed. _Don’t think about it, just pick something._

When she emerged a minute later in comfy jeans and a v-neck, her trusty Docs and a jacket with plenty of pockets, there was a sandwich on the counter and Morgana was thoroughly occupied with…

“Did you give my cat filet mignon?”

“Get your sandwich and let’s go.”

“She’ll be impossible to feed now.”

Jareth’s hand slid down her arm from shoulder to wrist, quick and light. Sarah started, unsure where to look, but the moment was almost too quick to even consider it, and when it ended they were standing in a stone hallway.

“All the better to avoid the goblins,” Jareth said by way of explanation. “I’m not worried, but I’d prefer minimal distractions.” She turned and started walking, and all Sarah could do was follow. _Typical. She just shows up after thirteen years with ‘Saaay-raaah, I need your helllp,’ and then she drags me here to make me follow her like a puppy while she continues to tell me nothing. _She fought back the annoyance rising in her chest.

“You said you’d tell me more about this war.”

“I suppose I did.”

“Who are we fighting?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Nothing? Names, faces, rumors?”

“Nothing as to their identity. Their location, their numbers, it’s all…” Jareth waved her hand above her head. “I’ve been thinking of them as just ‘The Threat.’ I realize it sounds ominous, but it’s not inaccurate.”

“What… are they doing?”

“It’s disappearing. Places are disappearing, whole and in parts, and it’s unclear if they’ve been moved or if they’ve ceased to exist. And along with them, my subjects. That’s assuming they haven’t been separated from their homes and placed somewhere else I can’t access, which I would say is more troubling, but we’ve already gone so far past abysmal that qualifiers and ranks seem somewhat unnecessary.”

Sarah felt a spike of worry colored with guilt for the friends she hadn’t called on in years (was it still her fault if she’d been unsure of their very existence? _Yes_). “You’re sure they’re not just somewhere else in the labyrinth?”

“You think I would make such claims if I had not exhausted all other possibilities?”

“You think I’d take that for granted and not ask after my friends?”

“Are you quite sure you can still call them friends?” Jareth said, not even turning to look at her. “When was the last time you saw them? Would they not suspect that you’d abandoned them? That’s if they remember you at all; it might be kinder to them if they forgot.”

The way Jareth said “forgot” raised the hairs on Sarah’s arms. “Did you do something to them?”

“I have not done anything, and neither have you. May I remind you that you have been back in my world all of five minutes and you are questioning me, as though I’ve not been living with this, exhausting my considerable skill to try to fix it.”

“I’m not ‘questioning,’ I’m asking, because I don’t know anything!” Sarah stopped walking. “How about you stop berating me and give me something to work with?”

“I am _trying_,” Jareth said, wheeling on her and reaching out as though to grab Sarah by the shoulders. She stopped herself, closing her hands into fists and dropping her arms back to her sides. She chuckled, humorless. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

Sarah crossed her arms automatically and for a moment, she could see herself as Jareth must see her, defiant, petulant, stubborn. Then the moment was over, and she was Ms. Sarah Williams, librarian, competent adult, and aspiring savior of the world if she could just get some fucking information.

“All right,” Jareth said. “Pull up a chair.”

Sarah looked up and down the hall they were in, saw no chairs, and leaned against the wall.

“No, really, pull up a chair,” Jareth repeated.

“Stop being funny, it’s not working.”

“Humor me.”

Sarah sighed. _Pull up a chair, huh? _she thought. She felt something like static electricity in her hands and something bumped the backs of her knees. She looked at the armchair that had appeared behind her for a few seconds before sitting down. Jareth was sitting in a similar chair, in the hallway, as though this were perfectly normal.

“’Certain powers?’” She tried not to think of the rest of that remembered line.

Jareth shrugged. “Environment manipulation. It’s useful. Now then. I’ve told you all I can about the Threat, but I can provide more detail as to my findings.”

“Okay,” Sarah said. “Okay.” She very much wanted to say something more useful, but her mind seemed to be outputting an away message while it chewed on everything Jareth had just told her.

Months. It had been going on for months. Something or someone had been tearing into the kingdom, literally, taking chunks out of it. Sometimes they were pits; sometimes they were surface level. They ranged from the size of a fist (“Those were, obviously, harder to find. I’m quite sure I haven’t found them all.”) to the size of a goblin home. And they seemed to truly be nothingness.

“I think,” Sarah started, finally breaking out of her loop; she realized Jareth was watching her, still and utterly focused. _Why is she doing that? Does she think I’m going to run?_

“You think…?”

Sarah shook her head. “I think… I need a drink.” Another thrill of static went through her hands and she turned to see a small end table bearing a tumbler of whiskey. “I could get used to that.” She took a sip, and it was rich and burning and provided enough sensation to ground her. “It sounds so simple when you say it. But then I think about it, and it’s horrific.”

Jareth nodded. “If you have any questions, now is a good time.”

“I have a lot of questions,” Sarah said. “Not about the Threat, yet, I still don’t think I’ve processed it enough to ask questions about that. But.” She took another sip, trying to figure out how to phrase it. Jareth’s eyebrows were so high, they were hidden in her hair. “I don’t… know you? I mean, clearly I trust you enough to let you magically whisk me away to your literal castle in another dimension, but the things I actually know about you I could count on one hand. So I guess I’m wondering, who exactly are you? Whose side am I fighting on here?”

Jareth seemed to relax a little. “It’s a fair question. This is going to be rather more difficult than sacking the Goblin City.” She was quiet again and just when Sarah was going to tell her off for being evasive, she spoke. “Anything I can tell you, you either already know or wouldn’t believe. Should I tell you I’m more gracious, more chivalrous, kinder than I seemed? Empty claims. I’d just make you think I’m more conceited than you already do.”

Sarah snorted. She was probably right. “Then, can I ask you some questions?”

“Depending what they are, I may not answer.”

“What was growing up here like?”

“It’s not as though I have anything to compare it to.” At Sarah’s look, Jareth continued. “My family was Fae royalty, I lived in the castle, I learned my way around the labyrinth as part of my studies. It’s not as though you couldn’t have guessed this.”

_Great, striking out already. Um…_“Any siblings?”

“No,” Jareth said. “Children don’t come easy to the Fae.”

“Not by birth, maybe,” Sarah said without thinking.

Jareth chuckled. “Fair.”

“Have you ever had any pets?”

Jareth sounded surprised by her own laugh. “Sarah, my subjects are goblins, why would I ever want to keep pets?” A beat later she said, “I suppose I like cats.”

_Yeah, of course you do, _Sarah thought, remembering Morgana and the filet mignon. “What…” The usual questions didn’t really work here. What do you do? _Goblin King. _What did you want to be when you grew up? _Goblin King. _What’s your favorite color? _What an insipid question. _“So you didn’t build the Labyrinth?”

“Oh, no,” Jareth said. “Did you assume I had?”

“Honestly, I’d have been surprised either way.”

“No, it’s much older than me. But I did shape it. I’m almost sorry you got through so quickly; you missed some bits I’m particularly proud of.”

“’Quickly?’”

“More quickly than anyone else.”

“Which is to say, at all.”

“As you say.”

Sarah’s next question had been like an itch at the back of her mind, barely insistent for a while but becoming more and more irritating the longer she waited to acknowledge it. “Why do, uh.”

“I haven’t often found you speechless, Sarah,” Jareth said after a moment. “I won’t say it doesn’t have its novelty, but it sounds like you’ve got something on the tip of your tongue.”

_I’ll show you the tip of my t— no. Wait. _Sarah blushed and broke eye contact, annoyed with herself. Actually, with the way Jareth was leaning toward her, looking amused, she was annoyed with _her_, too_. Yeah, well, you’re not going to enjoy this as much as you think you will. At least, I don’t think so._

“Why do I— The— Environment manipulation.” The more Sarah tries not to make things awkward, the more her attempts backfire. “I had the ability when I ran the labyrinth, correct?”

“Correct,” said Jareth, and there’s something brittle about her posture now, as though she is trying to appear unfazed.

“You gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“I still have it.”

“Apparently.”

Sarah sighed. “Why?”

Jareth turned away, just a little, facing the window next to Sarah. “Some things can’t be taken back.”

Part of her wanted to keep pushing. _So you would take it back, if you could? When you say “it,” do you mean the powers, or…? _The other part was afraid of the answers. Something occurred to her. “Hey, if I could manipulate my environment the last time I was here, why did it take me so long to solve the labyrinth?”

Jareth grinned, looking more like her old self. “Come now, Sarah,” she purred. “Do you really think you could have cut a path straight through the labyrinth to the castle? You have exceptional abilities, true, but I’ve had mine a _lot _longer. And besides, I believe you enjoyed the challenge, at least a little.”

_Stop doing that with your voice! _Sarah’s mouth had gone suddenly dry. She swallowed and tried to look unaffected. “Last question—probably,” she said. “You said we had to get here immediately—”

“Technically I did give you time to change.”

“—And not that I don’t appreciate the chance to rest, but isn’t this pretty time sensitive?”

“I wasn’t about to drop you in front of a patch of nothingness and say ‘Here you go, what can you do about it?’ As my collaborator, you need all the information I have.”

“And to grill you about your domesticated animal preferences?”

“Whatever you need to get the job done,” Jareth answered.

“About that.” Sarah yawned and stretched. “I hope this doesn’t put too much of a wrench in the works, but I am going to need to sleep. It’s got to be past my bedtime, and no way can I run around for ten hours straight like I could when I was fifteen.”

Sarah’s borrowed bedchamber was huge, hung with tapestries depicting fantastical creatures, disarmingly beautiful people who were almost certainly Fae, and, in one case, a garden with what looked like a real Boschian influence (or maybe they’d inspired him?). A four-poster bed loomed in the middle of the room, its curtains and bedclothes a deep, sumptuous red.

Sarah investigated the armoire and found clothes that looked like they might fit her, blouses and leggings, vests and jackets, stockings and undergarments which would definitely be future Sarah’s job to negotiate. More immediately pertinent, there were silk nightgowns and robes, each softer than the last. She chose one in a cool brown almost the same shade as Morgana’s coat. Guilt and worry clamped down on her at the thought of leaving her cat behind. _It’s fine, _she told herself. Last time, she’d only been gone a couple hours to the thirteen she’d been here, and it wasn’t as though Jareth couldn’t reorder time again. Probably. She resolved to ask in the morning.

“Your cat is fine, she will be fine,” Jareth assured her over their walking breakfast of croissants. “Your neighbor, ah, Allison, will remember in the morning that she’d agreed to take care of the cat for the day while you’re in the Berkshires.”

“Wait, what about my job?” Sarah realized.

“You asked for the day off months ago. They’ll expect you back tomorrow, and I’ll have you back in your apartment by this evening, in your time.”

Sarah thanked her around a mouthful of breakfast. “Where do you even get these?”

“Did you think all my subjects were quasi-inept baby snatchers?” Fair enough.

They didn’t go far; the first patch of nothingness they came to was one of the smaller ones, about the size of a bowling ball, in the goblin city barely a few yards from the castle. Neither of them mentioned how very close it was, how the next one might not even be outside.

“It’s not dangerous to go near it briefly, as far as I can tell,” Jareth said. She put a hand up and looked back at Sarah. “Here, feel.” She took Sarah’s hand and raised it in front of them, and even with the leather of the glove between them, Sarah felt a current of warmth go through her.

_Don’t be weird, _she told herself, but then she forgot as she felt the place where the world ended.

It didn’t hurt, but it felt wrong—similar to the way her magic did, but with a different texture, dampening rather than invigorating. She didn’t like it; she pulled her hand back, but as she did, she inadvertently pulled away from Jareth, who looked at her.

_No no no, I didn’t mean— _She couldn’t even finish the thought. “It’s…” she said, gesturing to the void.

“I know it’s uncomfortable,” Jareth said, “but if you’re getting any impressions from it, they could be helpful for either diagnosis or repair.” Reluctantly, Sarah brought her hand up to it again. The same dampening magic sensation was there, but if she concentrated she felt something like…

“It pulls,” Sarah said. “Just a little. It’s like it’s trying to take me in, or pull me through it.”

Jareth nodded. “Does it feel like it’s pulling at you physically, or at your magic?”

Sarah balked reflexively at the thought of touching it again; it _felt _like it was pulling at everything she _was_. But she gritted her teeth and put her hand to it. She squinted as though the answer would be something she could see. “It feels like,” she started, unsure, before narrowing her focus further. “It feels like it knows my magic is here, but it’s not interested in it. There’s another kind of magic on the other side, and it doesn’t need mine. It’s trying to pull me through. I think the places it removes have to be going somewhere else.” When she pulled her hand and her attention back from the emptiness, Jareth was nodding. She looked slightly relieved.

“I suspected, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t wishful thinking,” Jareth said. Sarah was struck again by the care she had, not just for maintaining control of the kingdom, but for the land and its inhabitants. It wasn’t just a matter of pride for her.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Sarah said.

“Now, if you’ll indulge me, I’ll need to borrow your hands again.”

Sarah shushed the part of her brain that started helplessly giggling at that. “What did you have in mind?”

“We can’t patch them up, exactly; I can’t currently pull the stolen matter back through the same channel, and taking matter from somewhere else just moves the problem. I believe that together, we can knit the smaller spaces closed. It’ll thin out reality a bit just around the voids, but this should be safer for the kingdom until we can locate the Threat, eliminate it, and reverse the effects.”

Sarah nodded. “Just tell me where you need me.”

Jareth held out her hand to Sarah, and when she took it, brought it up to the void once more. “Think of closing it, of sealing the edges.” Sarah closed her eyes and pictured loose, ragged threads where reality ended, brought them together, wove them closed. This time the electricity felt like it was circulating through her, into Jareth, back into her, and out into the world. “Sarah,” Jareth whispered.

Sarah opened her eyes and the void was gone. If she focused, the air felt a little strange, but it was air, not a hole in the world. _Holy shit, we did it._

Jareth laughed out loud and pulled her close by their still-joined hands, twirled her around and Sarah flashed back to the dream that wasn’t a dream, a ballroom in a crystal, and her breath caught as she felt the hand on her waist, warm and familiar and crackling with magic. For a split second she was falling up into those mismatched eyes. Then they were looking away, the hands on her were gone, and Jareth had retreated a respectful distance.

“There are more to repair,” Jareth said, still not looking at her. “If you feel up to it.”

Sarah felt disarmed, wrong-footed, but not tired. “Lead the way.”

Sarah lay in bed that night, staring at the bed curtains and wondering what even was anything. After that one moment when the past had come rushing back at her and she thought Jareth might have—they’d spent the rest of the day closing up small voids all over the kingdom, the way they’d repaired the first one, except that Jareth’s hand on hers felt stiff, careful, somehow distant. They didn’t speak unless they had to, and the tension had carried over into a silent dinner at the castle. “We’ll talk strategy tomorrow,” was the last thing Jareth had said to her before vanishing, presumably to her own room. And that was it.

That was it?

_What were you expecting to happen?_

_I don’t know! Something. More than that._

_What did you want to happen?_

_I don’t know… Something. _

_More than that._

And that was highly inconvenient.

Maybe Jareth hadn’t meant it, that was just the way she celebrated with all her friends, maybe she’d pulled away because she realized too late that Sarah would read too much into those actions.

That sounded stupid as soon as she’d thought it. So. She meant it, then. She just clearly didn’t want to.

And that was fine. It wasn’t as though Sarah could live Underground, she had a job and a cat and an apartment and friends and a whole life. And Jareth couldn’t abdicate. Well, she wouldn’t. She _shouldn’t_, that would be a genuinely terrible idea. Sarah had seen firsthand how much she cared for her kingdom today. She knew it as though it were an extension of herself; Sarah supposed it was. No, this was where she belonged, and Sarah would never want to take her away from that.

“Ugh.” Sarah rolled onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut. It was pointless to think about this now, when she should be resting up for whatever tomorrow had in store. They could be adults about it.

Or they could just never talk about it again.

“There’s a slightly larger patch of void outside the entrance to the labyrinth,” Jareth greeted her as she descended the stairs. “It might be too large to mend with the method we’ve been using, but if not, we’ll have a better understanding of the possibilities."

The “slightly larger patch” turned out to be the size of a garden shed.

“This is a slight difference to you?”

“It must have grown since I saw it.” Frowning, Jareth circled it, and Sarah, feeling uneasy at the prospect of losing sight of her around the void, followed. This was one of the ones that disappeared into the earth; how far down it went, Sarah now realized, was impossible to discern.

“Did you know they could grow?” Sarah said, trying to keep an eye on both Jareth and the edge of the void.

“I did not,” Jareth said, focusing entirely on the emptiness. “It’s good that we’re here; who knows how long it would have taken to learn this otherwise?”

“Not long enough,” Sarah muttered, but Jareth ignored her.

“I was here just the other day,” she mused. “I wonder if potential for repair improves within a shorter time frame.” She put a hand up to the boundary between the void and the air, but Sarah saw something that made all the blood drain from her face. The wind was picking up, and the edge of ground nearest them was crumbling.

“Get back,” she said, backing away, but Jareth only crouched to touch the receding sand. “What are you doing?”

“I might be able to stop it.” Jareth squinted through the sand.

“You might not!”

“I suppose we’ll find—" Jareth managed before the ground under her feet began to crumble away. She tried to lean back on her heels, but her center of gravity was already going. Sarah’s mind froze, but thankfully her body didn’t. She lunged forward, grabbed the back of Jareth’s coat and fell back. For a split second, she saw a look of terror on the Goblin King’s face and she hated it. Hated that there was something in existence that could make her look like that (something that wasn’t her, anyway). Hated that there was something that _wanted_to make her look like that. _Get us out of here_, Sarah thought desperately, and they never hit the ground.

Instead, Sarah felt velvet and cushions break their fall, and that harsh, howling wind was gone. Jareth landing on her knocked the air out of her lungs, but even with all her faculties, she still would have needed a moment. They were inside, under a ceiling painted with blazing stars and impossible people, lying on a sedan chair, and it was utterly, eerily silent. Jareth coughed and Sarah realized her arms were still wrapped around her. She let go and Jareth sat up, choking and coughing, and Sarah wished she had a glass of water or something to give her. She looked around, trying to look for a doorway that might lead to a kitchen and saw a pitcher of water and two glasses on a marble side table. Extricating her legs, she sat up enough to turn and pour a glass of water before offering it to Jareth. Jareth turned to her, her face red from coughing, eyes red from the assault of the sand.

“Why did you stop me?” she spat. “I could have—”

“You could have died!” Sarah said, not believing what she was hearing.

“Foolish girl,” Jareth said.

“You asked for my help.”

“And what a mistake that was.”

“I saw your face.” Sarah was almost yelling now. “You were terrified. That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“And why do you care?”

Again, before she was entirely aware of what she was doing, Sarah acted. Her hand went to Jareth’s face and she pressed her lips to hers. _This is why_, she thought, knowing as answers go that it was insufficient. Jareth hesitated for only a moment before her hands were on Sarah’s waist and she was pulling her in close. Her lips parted and Sarah gasped, darting her tongue out to run over sharp teeth. Jareth groaned, pressing her own tongue into Sarah’s mouth. She dragged her hands over Sarah’s back, wrapping her in her arms, and Sarah pressed herself closer, feeling somehow that they’d been fighting gravity until this moment and now the laws of the universe were finally making sense.

A dreamy thought crossed her mind: _Maybe this is what saves it. Maybe we repair the world with—_

And that snapped her back into reality. This wasn’t a fairy tale, and they weren’t in love. Reluctantly, she pulled out of the kiss and opened her eyes. Jareth’s mismatched ones followed suit, pupils blown as she breathed hard.

“I. Just. Do,” Sarah said, by way of answer. She couldn’t stop her gaze from flicking down to Jareth’s kiss-swollen lips. They were still holding onto each other and it would be so easy to close that gap and fall into her, see just how close they could get, but the world was still ending.

The glass was cold in her hand, and she held it out to Jareth. “This might help.”

They didn't talk about this either.

Day Three: Back out there. Sarah wondered if she should start keeping a journal. It might not be a bad idea, actually.

The more things that happened between them, the more distance Jareth seemed to want to put between them. Which was especially inconvenient for field work in a highly dangerous field. Jareth was off in the distance (still visible, thank goodness, but give it time) when Sarah suddenly felt the void energy (or lack thereof) at her back. She opened her mouth to alert Jareth, but the hands on her arm pulled her through a weak point in the world and everything was different.

She was standing on a white marble parapet; the stone was dingy and worn beneath her feet, and tree branches surrounded her.

“Where am I?”

“My City.”

Sarah jumped. Despite the direct interference, she’d forgotten someone else was there. She turned and saw a teenage girl with black hair and mismatched eyes, one black and one green, standing there and regarding her with her arms crossed. There was something eerily familiar about her—Sarah had the wild thought that this girl could almost be Jareth, years and years ago.

“What’s it called?” _Names have power. If I know where I am, I could leave._

“That’s what it’s called.” The girl hadn’t moved more than she’d needed to speak. _Okay, maybe not._

“’My City’?”

“It’s not yours.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“She’s stronger with you, the king,” the girl said. “What kind of general would I be if I didn’t exploit my enemy’s weaknesses?”

“I guess that makes you a pretty good general, then.”

“Don’t patronize me. How long have you been fighting the king’s battles?”

“I’m not— How long have _you _been fighting?”

“Forever.”

The word chilled Sarah; something about it negated the possibility of childish hyperbole. Even if time ran the way she was used to, it was entirely possible the girl had spent most of her life fighting: fighting to survive, fighting to keep her corner of the world, fighting for revenge.

“That must be difficult.”

“I said, don’t patronize me.” The girl held up an arm, fingers tensed, like she was readying a spell. Maybe she was.

“I’m not,” Sarah said. “Just making conversation.”

“Unnecessary.” The girl leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms, still watching Sarah.

“Fine, no small talk,” Sarah said. “What are you planning to do with me?” She wondered how her own magic stood up to the girl’s. This girl had ripped through reality and pulled her through to another place; could _she_do that?

The girl looked at her blankly. “Why on earth would I tell you my plans?”

Smart. “Where are we? In relation to the labyrinth?”

“This is getting boring,” the girl said. “If you insist on asking such stupid questions, I’d prefer you didn’t talk at all.”

Damn, the similarities just keep coming. “Okay, what’s your— What should I call you?”

“Why should you call me anything? We’re the only ones here.”

That was bad; it suggested she wasn’t planning on letting Sarah go. She’s smart, don’t bullshit. “You know, for when I inevitably escape and tell Jareth whose ass we need to kick. And it feels barbaric in a way not to know the name of my captor. You can call me Sarah.”

The girl didn’t look at her, just silently stared into the trees. “Vange. That’s what you can call me.”

“I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, Vange.”

Vange snorted. “Now you’re getting it. It’s not nice to meet me.”

_You’re just a kid, and you’re setting yourself up as a villain. Literally, you against the world._

“What do you want?” Sarah said. “What’s your objective?” Vange glared at her. “This isn’t like telling me your plans. I’d know if I weren’t coming in late, right? You started this war; you must have demands.”

“Is that what she told you? I started it? I’m trying to survive.”

“What’s threatening your survival?”

“Your precious Goblin King.” She sneered it the way Jareth had sneered at her all those years ago. Sarah would never have thought in a million years that one day she’d be fighting for Jareth in much the same way she’d fought for Toby. Especially in this context. Sarah still knew so little about what was going on; what if that was true?

“What did she do?”

“She’s trying to unmake me. She’s trying to wipe My City off the map.”

Vange sounded more emotional now; Sarah was sure she’d either done something right or something very wrong.

“Okay,” Sarah said, carefully. “She didn’t tell me that.” Vange barked out a humorless laugh. “How… exactly is she doing that?”

“I don’t know _exactly_,” Vange said. “Or else I could beat her faster. But I grew up here. I had to fend for myself, find this corner of the world, and defend it. Now she’s trying to destroy it.”

“Were you born here, Vange?” Sarah said.

“I belong here.”

“That’s not— I know.” Sarah took a breath. “Are you from Aboveground, Vange?” Vange just nodded. “How long have you been here?”

“Awhile.” Vange straightened up and glared at her, as though remembering she was the enemy. “A long time. This is my home.” And with the end of her quarterstaff, she tore another rift in the world. “Tell her that when you see her. This isn’t mercy. You’re just the messenger.” She shoved Sarah through, back to where she’d been just minutes ago. "You have one day!"

“Sarah!”

She stumbled through the rift and Jareth caught her. For a moment she just let herself lean on Jareth, letting her warmth and strength ground her after two passes through a small void in the world. Jareth was saying something.

“Sarah. Sarah, can you speak? Can you hear me?”

“I’m okay,” she said. “Don’t—don’t feel great, but…” She shuddered, and Jareth held her tighter. She felt like she could stay like this for a long time, if not for the nagging question in her head that she really didn’t want to ask.

“What happened?” Their surroundings turned from the labyrinth to a room in the castle. Sarah hadn’t felt them move but the shift in visuals made her stomach lurch. She closed her eyes.

“Nothing, we just talked. For a minute there, it seemed like it was going to be worse.”

“You saw them? What are they? How many?”

“Just one.”

Jareth frowned. “No, that can’t be right. Are you sure there weren’t more you didn’t see?”

“She seemed pretty… solitary.”

“She? Who was it? Did she tell you?”

“Sort of.”

“Who was it?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Sarah, please, this is important.”

“What happens to the kids who don’t get rescued?”

Jareth looked at her evenly. “It depends.”

“On?”

“Some of them, the youngest ones usually, are raised by Fae families. You know, humans don’t have memories from before they’re roughly three years old?”

“And the rest?” Sarah said through gritted teeth.

“The Underground’s an awfully big place, Sarah, and it’s not all mine.”

“Where. Do. They. Go.”

Jareth sighed. “Everywhere. Anywhere. If they’ve not been claimed or don’t want to be, they… disappear. Underground changes everyone; some become like goblins, or the other creatures that populate our world.”

Sarah had a horrible thought. “The creatures in the Labyrinth… are they…?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” Jareth said. “It’s not all bad, Sarah. Many of these children did not come from stable, loving homes; there was no kind of life modeled for them Aboveground that they would miss.”

Sarah felt sick. Children turned monsters… Could the Fireys have been human children once? The False Alarms? The Junk Lady? She fought against the wave of nausea sweeping over her.

“And some of them,” she said, “could they have become like you?”

Jareth scoffed, but Sarah remained frozen, just watching her.

“Like me?”

“Like the Fae.”

“It seems unlikely.”

“I didn’t ask you how likely it was,” Sarah said. “Is it possible?”

Jareth sighed again. “To an extent, it’s not impossible.” Sarah had known already that would be the answer, but it still felt like a shock. “Are you asking because of a guilty conscience or because you have a theory?”

“This is not about me,” Sarah said even as a spike of anxiety shot through her as she thought for the millionth time what would have happened if she hadn’t been able to bring Toby home.

“Isn’t it?” Jareth stared her down, eyes cold. “The difference between you and all those sisters, brothers, mothers, guardians over the centuries is that you were able to fix your mistake. Humans are so predictable; you say something rash in the throes of emotion and immediately regret it. Sometimes there are unimaginable consequences to the actions you haven’t thought through, and it always seems to surprise you. Can you say what dear Toby would have become if the clock had run out on you?”

“Stop it.”

“So quick to accuse me, and yet unable to face your own monstrous tendencies. I did not write the rules of my world, and I can’t control you. My interaction with your kind begins with a terrible wish and ends when the innocents you forsook lose the last shred of their humanity in my realm.”

“I said stop!” Energy crackled through her and a heavy silence fell over the room. Jareth opened her mouth and seemed to form words, but no sound was heard. She stopped, looking surprised, before her attention was once more on Sarah, and the look she gave her… Sarah turned away, because there was no venom in Jareth’s gaze, only resignation. _You’re just like the rest of them,_it said. _More power but no more wisdom or regard for how you use it, who you hurt._

Sarah clenched her fists, squeezed her eyes shut. _I deserve this,_she thought, _let her speak._The thickness of the air dissipated, but the only sound she heard were slow, retreating footsteps.

She waited for Jareth to come back, so they could talk without shouting, or so they could at least get back to the task of holding the world together. Ideally both. God. She hadn’t meant to use her magic on Jareth, it was just that in that moment she’d wanted nothing more than to stop hearing out loud a version of the monologue that played in the back of her head any time she let her guard down.

If she’d been any later, Toby would have been lost to her forever. Would Dad and Karen have blamed her? Or would the world have rewritten itself to accommodate the sudden loss of a beloved child? The thought that Toby could have disappeared from her life and never become the coolest kid she’d ever met… Sarah had never consciously wanted kids, but she’d often thought if she were to have one like Toby, she’d be lucky. What _would_he have become, if her betrayal had been complete?

Sarah found her leaning against a window frame, surveying the labyrinth. She shuffled a bit as she approached so as not to startle her. Jareth didn’t turn as Sarah joined her at the window. If she looked closely she could see places that looked like they’d been worn away, or erased messily. She didn’t want to turn to look at Jareth.

“I should tell you…” Sorry? I met your enemy? I felt kind of bad for her? I don’t think you’d kill a kid but I’m still not 100% sure?

“Tell me…?” Jareth didn’t look at her either. “If that’s all, I’ll be retiring for the day.” She waved her hand and a crystal appeared in the air, hovering. “Follow that to your room. I trust you’ll find the accommodations satisfactory.” She turned away and started down the hall.

“Please—” She stopped herself before she could say “stop” or “wait,” just in case it manifested as a command again, instead of the request—hope—she intended. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jareth paused but still wouldn’t look at her. “Done what?”

“I didn’t consciously try to control you… but I know I—” have _certain powers_“—I’ve managed to affect my environment with magic before and I was careless and I can’t afford to be. And it doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean it, because I still did it to you.”

Jareth sighed. “I understand. You’ve lived a relatively long time without knowing about your abilities, it shouldn’t surprise me when you use them without understanding.”

“But I still—I want to do better,” Sarah said. “I’m going to do better.”

Jareth’s shoulders slumped, ever so slightly. “I’m sure you’ll try. I’m tired, Sarah. If you have anything pertinent to strategy to tell me, I will listen; otherwise, I’m going to rest, and I suggest you do the same.”

“I met her,” Sarah said. “The person who’s doing this.”

“I know.”

“She’s just a kid.”

“Like you were?”

“Oh, she’s way worse than me.” Sarah thought this might get Jareth to crack a smile, but she still couldn’t see her face. “She said to tell you that she’s been here a long time and this is her home. I should have told you sooner; I’d have remembered, probably, if I hadn’t gotten so angry, so.”

“Thank you, Sarah,” Jareth said, her tone softening. “We should both get some sleep. Good night.”

Sarah went back to her room, changed and got into bed, but she couldn’t sleep. She kept seeing Jareth turned away from her, not wanting to look at her. Disappointed. Way past disappointed. If she couldn’t salvage this, if Jareth never wanted to trust her again…

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a robe from the armoire before heading for the door, trying not to think too hard. Maybe she’d just go for a walk to clear her head. She stepped barefoot into the hallway, the torches in sconces outside her door lighting and making her jump. She realized it must be an enchantment and relaxed for a second before a thought occurred to her. _What if I’m doing that without realizing?_The idea of being so out of control of her powers almost made her shut herself in her room again, but the thought of being alone with her own thoughts and no distractions made her keep moving forward. She carefully kept her mind free of intention as she came to the next set of sconces. _Don’t mind me, I’m just anybody, I’m not making them light up for me._They lit up anyway, and she sighed with relief. She wasn’t so out of control, then. She wasn’t just an idle thought away from bringing the whole place crashing to the ground.

For a while, the walking was all she needed. She hadn’t properly explored yet and while some places were familiar, there were halls and tapestries and paintings she had never seen before. But even new sights couldn’t distract her for long. Her thoughts kept returning to Jareth.

_Fuck it. Take me to her._

As soon as she’d had the thought, she regretted it. She’d end up in Jareth’s bedroom and scare the shit out of her and she’d definitely never trust her again and maybe she’d even send her home on the spot and try to face the Threat—Vange—on her own and get killed and then the whole kingdom would be destroyed.

She needn’t have worried. She ended up in another hallway she’d never seen; a window next to her showed her that she must be on the highest level of the castle. A grand, ornately carved door stood in front of her.

She raised her hand to knock, but stopped. Even if she hadn’t teleported directly into Jareth’s bedroom, she wasn’t really supposed to be here. If she wanted to regain Jareth’s trust, this wasn’t a good place to be. She lowered her hand and backed away. At least she could try walking back to her room, that might at least tire her out. She’d only taken a few steps before she heard the door open behind her.

“Sarah?” Faint firelight spilled out around Jareth in the doorway.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I was taking a walk, and then I wanted to talk to you, and I just realized it would be stupid, so I’m going back to bed.” Sarah took another step back. “Um, good night. Sorry again.”

“Sarah.” She stopped retreating and really looked at Jareth. She was still in her clothes, but her vest was undone and her hair slightly mussed. Gloves were still on, Sarah noted.

There was a smile on Jareth’s face, just a small one, and Sarah felt tension leave her body that she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

“Would you like to come in?”

Anything Sarah could think to say would have sounded too eager or too formal, so she just nodded and walked past her into her rooms.

If the guest room was impressive, Sarah supposed she should have expected the grandeur of the king’s own quarters, but it knocked the breath out of her anyway. The massive fireplace on one wall drew her eye first, filled as it was with a fire that was a little too large to be called merely “pleasant.” Tapestries here of course, and in between them enormous mirrors, reflecting each other, reflecting the tapestries, the firelight, her, Jareth. And of course, the bed.

Four poster, thick embroidered curtains of midnight blue and silver, king size at least, Sarah figured. _That’s a bed you could get lost in._

“You said you wanted to talk,” Jareth said, passing behind her to a set of armchairs set near the fireplace. The breeze that followed in her wake made Sarah shiver in her silk, and she gladly got closer to the fire.

“Hey, are these the chairs from the other night?” Sarah said, looking between them. “When we were talking in the hall?”

Jareth chuckled. “I was a little surprised when they showed up.” She sat in one of the chairs and gestured to the other. “So,” she said as Sarah took her place, “you wanted to talk?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sor—”

“’Sorry?’ You’ve already said.” Jareth frowned.

“I know, but I.” Sarah sighed; she sounded pathetic, even to herself. “I need you to believe me.”

“I believe you, Sarah; I believe if we sit around apologizing to each other for every harm we’ve done, we’ll be here til the world ends. Didn’t I give you the powers you’re so sorry for using?”

“Fair enough,” Sarah said.

“Was there anything else?” This could be a way of trying to get her to leave, but Jareth wasn’t making any move to stand or show her the door, so Sarah stayed where she was.

“I have a question, too. It might sound strange.”

“Try me.”

“The other night, you said you were different from the way you presented yourself all those years ago.”

“Technically, I believe I said I wouldn’t tell you I was different—”

“But that’s what you meant, right?”

Jareth tilted her head and quirked the corner of her mouth up in what was the closest thing to a shrug Sarah had ever seen from her. “Are you disappointed, Sarah?”

“No,” she said too quickly. Jareth’s smirk got wider, but Sarah gritted her teeth and powered through it. “I guess one thing I’m wondering is, what were you like with all the other people who tried to solve the labyrinth?”

“_This _is what drove you out of bed in the middle of the night?”

“I have a lot of thoughts, okay?”

“Hmmm. There have been so many, and the last one seems so long ago…” Jareth brought a hand to her lips in thought. “Is there something specific you’re looking for?”

Sarah couldn’t tell whether she was being deliberately evasive or not, but there was no way Jareth wasn’t toying with her a little. “You even said back then, you were frightening because I expected you to be.”

“And when did you stop expecting it?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been, what, trying to shape your persona based on my expectations while I’ve been here?” The thought repulsed Sarah as she thought of the moment after they’d stitched the hole in the world back together, their kiss the day before. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that this, too, might all be an act.

“Hardly,” Jareth said, and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. “Just a question of my own.”

“You haven’t answered mine yet,” Sarah said.

“I have a reputation to maintain, Sarah,” Jareth said, smiling oddly. “What kind of villain would I be if I weren’t frightening?”

“So, you don’t like being frightening?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Jareth said, and now the odd smile was gone, replaced by one with lots of sharp teeth. Sarah shivered. “That’s two questions I’ve answered for you; it seems only right that you answer two of mine.”

“Right, when did I stop expecting…” Sarah thought about it. “It’s been a long time, Goblin King. I mean, even if someone tells you they’re choosing to behave a certain way, it doesn’t mean that’s not who they are. I think I stopped being scared of you by the end of our—by the time I left, last time, but I was never sure if that was just a line you fed me.”

“Hmm. Yes, I see what you mean.” Jareth appeared to be thinking about it, but Sarah couldn’t get a read on what she might be feeling. Then Jareth’s eyes slid over to her, and she blushed, realizing she’d been staring. “My next question.” With feline grace and agonizing slowness, Jareth stood and approached until Sarah had to look up to see her.

“Would you like me to be frightening?”

Sarah’s breath caught. The firelight played over Jareth’s face, highlighting and shadowing, so that from one moment to the next, she looked alternately wicked and tentative, waiting for Sarah’s answer before she did anything. And there were more questions to ask, but they could wait.

“Yes.”

Suddenly Jareth’s hand was in her hair, pulling her up and toward the bed, just hard enough to sting. “Then let me be perfectly clear, pet,” she hissed in Sarah’s ear, “you’ve caused me no end of trouble, and I fully intend to repay you in kind.”

Sarah was so surprised and pleased with the sudden about-face she nearly squealed, but tamped it down just in time. “Your Majesty,” she purred, the slack on her hair just enough to let her turn and look Jareth in the eye, “you can try.”

For a moment, Jareth’s answering smile was one of pure delight before she got fully back into character, and then it turned sharp and dangerous. She threw Sarah onto the bed, and Sarah leaned up on her elbows to watch Jareth tug her boots off.

“Where shall we start?” Jareth said with one knee up on the bed before she started to crawl toward Sarah. “When I offered you your dreams and you threw them back in my face?”

“As if I could do otherwise.” Sarah breathed hard as Jareth crawled up the length of her body, feeling the heat radiating off her and strong thighs on either side of her.

“Stubborn, mulish Sarah,” Jareth growled, pulling her arms from under her, but Sarah was ready for her. She hooked a leg over Jareth’s hip and rolled her over onto her back. Jareth actually pouted. “Sometimes I think you resist for the sake of resistance.” She put her hands on Sarah’s hips and made as though to flip her onto her back, but Sarah was ready for that, too. She dropped her center of gravity, pressing her body to Jareth’s.

“Funny, I could say the same of y_-aaah!_” Teeth closed on Sarah’s earlobe as Jareth finally managed to surprise her and the sentence she was about to finish flew out of her head.

“Harsh words, precious,” Jareth whispered next to her ear before nipping at her jaw. She slid a hand over the side of Sarah’s face, thumb running over Sarah’s lower lip.

“I meant every one,” Sarah said, taking the opportunity to bite it through the leather of the glove. Not particularly hard, not meant to cause pain or even damage the glove, but Jareth still gasped.

“We’ll just add that to the list of infractions, shall we?” Jareth bit at her neck and sucked, hard, and Sarah cried out. “Hush, now, love,” Jareth said against her neck. “Wouldn’t want to traumatize any poor goblins running around the castle.” And Sarah had barely seen any goblins since her arrival, but maybe they weren’t quite so omnipresent when not in the middle of a stolen child caper and hoo boy did Sarah not need to be thinking about this right now.

“Speaking of infractions,” Sarah said, pulling Jareth’s head back by her hair. She looked into Jareth’s eyes, a question; Jareth just grinned up at her and tilted her head back an inch farther. “Whatever shall I do with you for dropping me into the oubliette—” she dipped her head down to Jareth’s throat, which visibly tensed, before changing her mind and placing a nearly chaste kiss there “—siccing the Cleaners on me—” she licked a stripe up Jareth’s throat, feeling more than hearing her low moan “—and taking away my time?” This time she bit down and Jareth yelped. “Careful, love,” she teased, “Wouldn’t want to traumatize any poor goblins running around the castle.”

“Gods, you absolute menace,” Jareth groaned. “Retaliations for your insolence.”

“’Insolence?’” Sarah repeated, rearranging herself to straddle Jareth’s thigh.

“’It’s a piece of cake,’” Jareth said in a frankly annoying impression of teenage Sarah.

“Oh, and here I _ah!_was,” Sarah said, rolling her hips, “thinking that those were totally _mmm_outsized reactions to a bruised ego.” As soon as she’d said it, she wasn’t sure if that was a bridge too far—sure, it was _true_, but probably not the best time to be teasing her about her feelings.

“You may be right, dear Sarah,” Jareth said, reaching for the lapels of the robe with a positively wicked glint in her eye. In one motion, she’d sat up and pulled the robe down to Sarah’s elbows, pinning her arms by her sides. She looked at Sarah then, questioning; Sarah responded with a short, sharp shake of her head. Jareth pushed the lapels away, throwing the robe off to puddle on the bed. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and darted forward to kiss Jareth on the jaw. Jareth held her close, but not tight. “We’ll cross that off the list.”

Without the robe, Sarah had much more skin bared to the room and the woman in front of her, and it threw into sharp relief just how overdressed that woman was.

“Is there something you want, love?” Jareth said, hands on Sarah’s hips, but not moving, waiting for her. Something leapt in Sarah’s chest, even though it wasn’t the first time Jareth had called her that, and she was just being decent, but she’d never thought—well, never expected…

“I want you to get this off,” she said, plucking at Jareth’s vest. “And this, and these—ideally everything, this is a really absurd number of things to be wearing right now. Do you know how many things I’m wearing? One thing.” But Jareth was already shrugging off the vest, pulling off the shirt—

“Excuse me for just a moment,” she said smoothly, and before Sarah had time to react Jareth was flipping her onto her back as she’d tried to do before and getting up to remove her leggings. “Who’s overdressed now?”

Sarah just stared at her, for what felt like a long time. _God, she’s gorgeous._Finally, she registered the crescent-shaped pendant, the chain of which hung between her breasts.

“That is definitely going to hit me in the face,” she said, gesturing at it. Jareth looked at it, surprised, as though she’d forgotten it was there. For a moment, she just held it in her hand. “You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to, we’ll figure out—”

“It’s fine.” Jareth smiled at her, taking it off and setting it down carefully on the trunk at the end of the bed. “Wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin that face.”

Sarah made a face at her, sticking her tongue out, and faster than any mortal could move, Jareth was back on her, biting her tongue, making her squawk in surprise and indignation, making them both laugh.

“Well, you have been terribly cruel to me, Sarah mine,” and okay that wasn’t supposed to make her giggle the way it almost had, “but I’ve half a mind to grant you a boon before we resume your punishment. Choose quickly, my generosity has a time limit.”

“Truly, you are too good to me, sire,” she deadpanned. She glanced down at her nightgown, smiled, and rolled onto her back with her hands folded behind her head. “I’d ask, Your Majesty, that you remove this offending gar—"

She couldn’t even finish the sentence before Jareth had a hand on either side of the low neckline and was tearing it down the middle. _Goddamn_. Yup, that was hotter than it had any right to be. But there was something…

“Your gloves!” she said as Jareth continued to tear the fabric. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without gloves before.”

Jareth had moved to straddle one of her legs to finish tearing the nightgown and she’d almost finished the job, but she wasn’t making much of an effort to rip through the last few threads. Instead, Jareth was holding the fabric in her fist and just grazing her knuckles over Sarah’s clit. Sarah barely managed to bite back a yell as she tried to thrust her hips up, but the most she could accomplish was to bring up her free leg and rub it against Jareth’s side.

Jareth’s eyes were traveling over Sarah’s body as though she were trying to memorize it. “Sarah,” she said, her voice low and reverent, “gods, I—” She blinked as though remembering she had a different goal in mind, and her eyes narrowed as she resumed the Scary Goblin King demeanor.

“You’ve never had my bare hands on you, have you, Sarah?” she said, cupping Sarah’s breast and rolling her thumb over the nipple, and it was soft and warm and Sarah arched up into the touch. “What a pity that I’ll be using them to take you apart.” She finished her assault on the nightgown, letting the two sides fall away and returning her hand to Sarah’s clit, rubbing with more intention now. “Never had my tongue in you either,” Jareth said in a low voice. “Not like this.” She dragged a finger through Sarah’s wetness, making her gasp. “But we’ll save that for another time.

“Next,” Jareth said, conversationally, as though she weren’t lavishing attention on Sarah’s breasts and clit with her hands and rolling her hips to grind on Sarah’s thigh, “there is the matter of all the destruction done to my property. First, the mechanical guard at the city gates.” She tweaked a nipple hard.

“_AAaah_was in my way,” Sarah managed. Strands of hair were starting to stick to her forehead and she was trying not to thrash around but _someone_was making that very, very difficult.

“Second, approximately three quarters of the Goblin City, I suppose that was in your way as well,” Jareth said, lowering her head to bite and suck at the other nipple.

_“Mmmph!”_A string of incoherent syllables tumbled out of Sarah’s mouth.

“Finally, just on your way out,” Jareth said, straightening her back so that the ends of her hair brushed Sarah’s face, “my. Castle.” She punctuated each of her last two words with a thrust of a finger into Sarah, and she kept thrusting. Sarah gasped and whined as she added another finger. She was hurtling toward her peak, she’d get there if she could just hang on.

“Beg me for mercy and I’ll stop.” Sarah opened her eyes to look into Jareth’s, who was grinning and panting with exertion and arousal.

Sarah grinned back. “_Not_—_on_—your _life_!” And then she was coming and crying out and she’d stopped trying to keep her hands behind her head and her arms were around Jareth’s neck and they were kissing and she was laughing, they were both laughing and Sarah felt wrung out, blissed out, but not too blissed out to remember—

“Hey,” she said, nipping at Jareth’s ear, “I want to touch you, I mean if you want me to.”

“I very much want you to,” Jareth said with a hint of a laugh still in her voice.

As soon as she’d come down, Jareth retrieved her necklace from the foot of the bed.

“It belonged to my father, and his mother before him,” she explained as she put it back on. “It’s not just a symbol of the King of the Goblins, it’s also incredibly powerful. It amplifies our magic; it’s what lets us keep control of the realm.”

“This really feels like some Samson and Delilah kind of deal,” Sarah said, lying beside her in bed. She ran a finger over the chain on Jareth’s chest. “Wait, do you know that story?”

“I know all the old stories,” Jareth said, looking at her with amusement.

“I just mean, are you sure you should be telling me this?”

“Why not? You’re my last hope anyway,” Jareth said. “If you wanted to destroy me, you wouldn’t even have to know about the necklace. It would be very easy.”

Sarah rolled over and spooned up against Jareth. “I don’t,” she said. She felt Jareth’s arms wrap around her, and she drifted to sleep.

The sun’s first rays were barely peeking through the windows when Sarah sat bolt upright with a revelation.

“Whaizzit?” Jareth mumbled from the pillow, and the fact that waking up here, with her, felt perfectly reasonable could be dealt with later.

“I have an idea,” Sarah said. “I’ll tell you about it when you’re awake. I think we can fix this. I think we can make it okay.”

On their way out of the castle, Sarah put a hand on Jareth’s shoulder. “Ready?” she said.

Jareth sighed and slipped the necklace off and over Sarah’s head. “I don’t like this.”

“I know, but you said it yourself, it would be easier than this for me to destroy you.”

“It’s not that,” Jareth said, rubbing at her neck where the chain used to hang. “I don’t take that off, Sarah. I assumed I’d die wearing it. Now I’m going into the most dangerous conflict of my life and I don’t have it.”

“Well, you still have it,” Sarah said. “I mean, you’re not wearing it. But you have. Um. Me.”

Jareth’s expression softened, just a bit, and she held Sarah’s hand in hers for a moment before kissing her palm. “I trust you,” she said. It sounded like “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Sarah hoped so, too.

“STOP.”

At Sarah’s shout, the dust froze in the air and the world went quiet. Cautiously, she looked back and forth between Jareth and Vange. Vange’s face was red and twisted with rage, mid-shout. Her arms reached in front of her, fingers bent into claws. With some of the urgency siphoned out of the situation, Sarah suddenly felt sad that she was seeing a kid like this. Jareth was stoic; Sarah couldn’t honestly say whether her expression was a mask or if she’d really resigned herself to protecting the kingdom at any cost, up to and including killing a child. She didn’t want to know. If her plan worked, she’d never have to know.

“You two,” she said, managing to take most of the strong emotion out of her voice, “we need to talk.” They unfroze and so did their attacks, but now there was an invisible wall between them that seemed to absorb the spells hitting it. That didn’t stop Vange from trying to go through it. Jareth didn’t look happy about what was happening, but neither did she look unhappy. Just resigned. Not, Sarah noted hopefully, resigned in the way she’d been the last time she’d been hindered by Sarah’s magic. Just aware that the situation was out of her hands for the time being.

Jareth nodded at her. _You have the floor._Sarah nodded back. If saying her right words had saved her the last time she was here, hopefully they could save her again. If she could find them.

“Vange,” she called. “You told me when you— earlier, that Jareth was trying to get rid of you and your home. Is that right?”

“What are you _doing?_” Vange said. “Let me go, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Okay, you’re not totally wrong,” Sarah said. “I’m not from here, I didn’t grow up here. But this place is a part of me. Destroying it would have farther reaching consequences than any one person could know.” She turned to Jareth. “Are you doing something that might be affecting Vange’s home?”

“Her ‘home’ is made up of bits of my kingdom, torn away and ground down and stuck back together so as to be nigh unrecognizable.”

“If I don’t make a place, there’s no place for me.”

“You could stay in the labyrinth.”

“And turn into one of your creatures? One of your obstacles?”

“I don’t control what anyone becomes.”

“But you make it possible.”

“The magic existed before I did. My kingdom existed before I did. The kingdom you are summarily destroying. My home.”

“Does it scare you, that someone can rip your home apart?”

“Wait. Go back. Jareth, you said you don’t control what anyone becomes.”

“…Correct.”

“You believe her?” Vange sputtered.

“Yes. And anyway, you’re not entirely human anymore, are you, Vange?”

“What does that—”

“It means you’ve already changed, the way you wanted to.”

“I had to, to survive.”

“Yes! Everyone does. But this means, specifically, that along with the power, you have more control than you realize. You don’t need to rip away pieces of the labyrinth at random to make a place for yourself. You can make yourself a home without taking away anyone else’s.”

“Where is this supposed to come from? You can’t make anything from nothing if you want it to be more substantial than an illusion.”

“So this is where we negotiate.”

It took days for the first piece of the labyrinth to come back: a piece of the outer wall. It was just stone and mortar and a bit of moss, but at least if the moss came back, they’d have some idea about the possibility of sentient life coming back.

Sarah had stuck around. Tomorrow hadn’t happened yet in her world, and she was needed here, even if just as a buffer between Jareth and Vange. At least she hadn’t needed to explain micronations, they had those in the Underground. Vange liked the idea of having a home where she was neither hunted nor a subject, and Jareth liked the idea that her kingdom would not only stop degrading, but actually heal. It would be an uneasy peace. Still, this morning, she’d seen them talking strategy at one of the patches of void, and they were neither yelling nor trying to kill each other, so she supposed the necessity of her stay here was drawing to a close.

And it would be good to go back home. She had a cat, a job and an apartment, friends. A life. So why was it that every time she thought about going back, she found a compelling reason not to?

Right now, at least, she was content to help the Goblin King (her Goblin King) pick up the pieces after the world fell down.


End file.
